Eat 'Em and Weep

I tried Ted’s Montana Grill in Manhattan on a Sunday night a few months ago, and the food was so unappealing I dismissed the place as yet another inconsequential chain restaurant. It was spiffier looking than most and it boasted a curious gimmick—buffalo cooked every which way but over a campfire.

The place wasn’t particularly busy. In fact, a herd of buffalo could have stampeded through the dining room without hurting anyone.

The meal was so bad I had only two choices. Take out my trusty .50-caliber Sharps buffalo rifle and send a couple of rounds through the kitchen door, or forget about the place. I made my decision: Since nobody was eating there, it wouldn’t be much of a service to advise people to stay away.

Then came a front-page story in The New York Times last month that pointed out that some American bison—buffalo to all of us—were wandering out of Yellowstone Park and grazing on Ted Turner’s range. He was happy to have them, and he received permission from the government to use a portion of them for whatever purpose he desired. In other words, maybe even as groceries. The Times referred to Turner as a "bison meat kingpin," which seemed fair enough. He operates more than 50 of those Ted’s Montana Grills in 19 states, which might make him the greatest harvester of buffalo meat since "Buffalo Bill" Cody, a great American icon who slaughtered more than 4,000 in less than two years.

It’s common knowledge that buffalo are being farm-raised for food throughout America, but the Times article became downright poignant when it described those buffalo living in Yellowstone Park as genetically pure, relics of another age. Most buffalo raised for meat carry some cattle genes, which presumably makes them less precious and less worthy of special attention.

The article barely touched on the ethics of using meat from such uncommon animals as restaurant fare. In principal, I am not opposed. The American bison, and not the cow, is our true native ruminant (an animal that chews its cud). Inasmuch as we have entered an era when eating locally and sustainably is thought of as the peak of principled dining, with grass-eating animals particularly prized, mere sentimentality should not keep them from our tables. The only other issue would be whether or not Turner treats these animals well before slaughtering them, and I’ve never heard criticism of his ranching practices.

In summary, I don’t want to save our buffalo from Ted Turner. I want to save them from Ted Turner’s kitchens.

I went back to Ted’s Montana Grill last week, and the meal was considerably better, which didn’t make it good. Despite the restaurant’s claims that it uses fresh meat and vegetables, and despite such admirable incidentals as "earth-friendly" drinking straws, Ted’s Montana Grill is at heart no different from any other chain.

Portions are predictably oversized. Service couldn’t be more pleasant. Prices are fair. I might even argue that the menu items are not nearly as contrived as they are at similar restaurants. Perfectly sensible in concept is the plate of bison pot roast, potatoes, and green beans. The tragedy is that the pot roast was overcooked, stringy, and covered in thick brown gravy; the potatoes were dry and lumpy; and the beans had been cooked nearly to mush. A guest with me said, "Are we eating food out of an 19th-century Wild West novel?"

Buffalo at least have rights groups out there defending them from abuse. Pity the mashed potatoes, or for that matter the macaroni and cheese. Nobody speaks for them.

The worst of all the bison items I tried was the burger—the meat was gray, grainy, and freakishly watery rather than juicy. My guest again spoke up: "They didn’t cook anything this bad on friggin’ wagon trains." The bison chili was decent, no different from chili made from beef. The bison rib steak was the most successful entrée, cooked perfectly medium-rare, with pleasant meatiness, but the texture was flabby. I don’t know who or what to blame for that—maybe those genuine bison genes.

If we are going to consume buffalo, which is a reasonable idea, it’s important that Americans learn to like the meat. Relegating the product to chain restaurants where the preparation appears to consist of heating it up and slapping it on a plate is not a viable plan for bringing about a better-eating America.

Either we get this product into the hands of chefs who know what to do with it, or we should take the buffalo off Turner’s ranch and let them live elsewhere in peace. I would like to endorse a plan that calls for emptying out North Dakota and giving it back to the buffalo. There are fewer than a million people living up there, and we can let them quietly meander on down to South Dakota, much like the buffalo drift out of Yellowstone Park. They’d have no reason to complain. Nobody is going to look at them as entrées.

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